Happy New Year

Happy New Year to you and those you care about. I'm looking forward to a brighter, cheerier, healthier, happier year in 2008.

I don't make New Year's Resolutions, but each year I decide to focus on something in the coming months. This year for me it will be writing.

If you've read here for any amount of time you know I'm a big believer in "signs" and I've had a lot of them lately that this is the thing for me to do. I got a large sign before Christmas and another huge one just a few minutes ago. In between the two I made the decision that this was the focus for 2008 for me. The first "sign" spurred me into making that choice and the second one assures me it's the right decision.

I hope you're able to have all you want in 2008!

More Festive Displays

I went to Paducah today to do a little shopping and lost track of time. Not sure how it happened, but I found myself there after dark. I decided to check out Bob Noble Park and see if there was a light display. I was not disappointed - there's a huge one - and it's free, although donations are encouraged.



It's one of those typical things you see in parks - but it's large and it's festive and it's there on Dec. 30 - all things to recommend it.





Cathy and I had lunch today, which was a nice treat. She was headed to Paducah as well, so we met up and ate. I really like getting to spend time with her and with Kim, but it seems we're generally all running 100 miles an hour all the time and it just doesn't happen too much. Maybe in 2008 we'll have time for more such things.

2007 has been a difficult year in a lot of ways. I'm ready for a bright, cheery, pleasant 2008 for me and everyone I care about.

A Christmas Tree and an Olympus FE300

Tonight I've been experimenting with my new camera, the Olympus FE300, taking photos of Mary Ann and Jackie's Christmas tree. What better subject could there be, after all? I haven't been too impressed with this camera so far, but tonight I'm a little happier with it. Naturally - nice tree photos=happy Patsy.




This Santa was on Kim's packages a few years ago when she did red and white paper- it was a striking combo.






Mary Ann like hummingbirds and someone gave her these really beautiful ornaments.



These snowflakes were my package ornaments last year - red paper with silver snowflakes on it.





I made these gingerbread ornaments one year for everyone. BC was a little guy at the time and I had him write everyone's names on them. It's a nice little touch. Unfortunately, I can't read the year on this one. I think it was 1998, but I'm not sure.



To be fair to the camera, I haven't had time to experiment with it too much so far. These photos were taken on the candle setting. The only thing I'm not thrilled with about that setting is that it won't take high resolution photos on that setting. I'm guessing that's about the grain. So, I don't think prints would be possible, but for the blog this is great. And I haven't experimented with prints so can't say that for sure.



I'm not a professional photographer, nor do I play one on TV, but I do happen to know one. Perhaps Greg will weigh in on the intracacies involved.

The Comforts of Real Quilts Made by Real People

Whenever I'm at Mary Ann and Jackie's, I snuggle under this quilt made by Mary Ann's mom, Margaurite Anderson Cooper. It's a simple design of teal and white, but striking in its geometry of curves and lines.

One of the things I love about this quilt is that it was made by a real woman making quilts for practical purposes, instead of a textile artist creating something that will never grace a bed, never warm a body, never comfort a sick loved one. Generations of women have been expressing themselves creatively through quilts, but it seems we've taken it to a dimension beyond "quilt" these days.

I certainly appreciate the endeavors of those who use fabric as their palette to create art, and have featured some of them here. But, I love a quilt made by the hands of a woman who was doing it not so she could enter it into a show, but to give to her children and grandchildren. They're both heirlooms, but the latter is more meaningful, more grounded, and I daresay more valuable. I cannot imagine anyone would trade a quilt their mother made for a piece of art made by a stranger, even though the stiches might be more perfect, the colors dyed an exacting shade of blue and the quilting done to make another piece of art on the back side.

I like the fact that the stitches aren't perfect. They weave here and there. They're not standard sizes. The fabric is puckered in places. Those things would all result in dramatic mark downs in a show, but only add to the beauty of such a piece as far as I'm concerned.



Somehow it seems that quilts should look like this. They're supposed to look homemade - not so perfect that we are amazed they were done by humans and not machines. Those seem like a ompletely different category of thing to me. A quilt is like this - sweet, homey, comforting.



Everytime I arrive at Mary Ann and Jackie's, tired after a long drive, and pull back the bed spread to see this quilt, I feel loved. You only share something precious, made by your mother's hands, with those you love. Every morning when I wake up with it around me I feel surrounded by the strength of generations of women who perservered, persisted and prevailed.

Women built this nation from the ground up, one quilt block at a time. Of course, they don't get the credit - aside from Betsy Ross - but we all know the truth. Without women building a foundation, this country would never have come to be. Quilts seem a great metaphor for that process of building - quietly - in the background - until a whole quilt comes into being. That's not a perfect process of all straight lines and tiny stitches. The work should show through in places. Maybe that's why I love a quilt that embodies those things.

Doing the Right Thing

As the year is drawing to a close I'm reflecting on the past 11+ months and considering the lessons learned.

I think the biggest lesson for me this year is you have to do what you think is "the right thing," even if few people - or no one - agree with you. You have to know where you stand, and what you think is right, or you are buffetted by the other forces around you. It was something I already knew, and is even one of my rules for living, but this year it was tested, as it had a practical application in my life.

For more than a third of this year, I was embroiled in a situation where I was often at odds with my peers. Other groups and individuals were acting on us from the outside and the whole scenario left me continually searching my heart to see if I was doing "the right thing."

Of course, therein lies the rub. "The right thing" can be hard to ferret out in the midst of high emotion and drama. I tend to have pretty definitive ideas of what the right course of action is at any given moment. However, that doesn't mean I'm always correct. And I reminded myself of that regularly as we moved through a process. I made a conscious effort to keep an open mind, to be open to possibilities I had not considered, to be honorable in my dealings with every situation that cropped up.

By the end of those months I had some new enemies on "both sides," although it wasn't until recently that I even knew that. Sometimes "the right thing" is a dash of this and a dab of that and a healthy blending of the other thing. I find it nearly impossible when dealing with other humans to be firmly entrenched in only one side. Being honorable, for me, requires a mix. This is very confusing those who don't know where you stand when you aren't standing on just one side of a line drawn in the sand.

But, now is the time, when one has acquired a new crop of enemies, that it's important to feel you did "the right thing." If you have acted honorably, to the best of your abilities, you can be comfortable with your decisions - even if they seemed contradictory to others at times. If you followed your best instinct about the correct course of action, after being open to the options and possibilities presented, it's all you can do - it's "the right thing." And when you've done the right thing, as far as you know of course, you can be at peace with it.

It was eye opening for me to watch the process and the other people involved at all stages. There was some behavior to model and some to eschew. I was reminded that each of us has potential to be the best and the worst of humans. No human action is beyond or beneath us - we simply don't always know what the limits are because we haven't tested them. And I was also reminded that none of us is our worst moment. We are bigger than that. By the same token, we are not our best moment either.

Doing "the right thing" may not be our best moment, but it is at least a good moment.

Shopping the Day After Christmas

An appalling lack of shame is the only explanation for why I share these photos with you today.

I had to actually drive to the far end of a parking lot and take my purchases made early in the day out of my car and repack them neatly to get everything I bought into the car while still allowing me to see out the back window.. Then I visited three more stores.

This was the passenger seat in the front of the car, today, after I piled things from the back seat into it, so I could clear it for the tree boxes. Oh... did I not mention the trees...

These are destined to be in my front yard next year... powered by the assemblage of timers and outdoor cords I also purchased today.

I keep a lot of things in the car this time of year - a blanket, jackets, coats, sweaters, etc. At 6:45 this morning I just piled the first crop of trees on top of them. Then I bought some for Greg, too. Then I bought other things and they were not laying flat in the backseat and things were teetering and well... I had to pull to the end of a parking lot and rearrange. I believe this is a first for me and I'm a veteran of Dec. 26 shopping.

I'm not a big shopper. It's not my favorite thing. In fact, clothes shopping is a version of hell for me. Who wants to get dressed and undressed that many times in the span of a few hours? But the day after Christmas I turn into Robo Shopper. I didn't even think there were that many things I wanted today. I expect to come home with wrapping paper and some ornaments and such, but today I got more "utilitarian" things, if you can refer to any sort of decoration in that way. But photo-cell timers aren't the same as sparkly ornaments.

I did pick up a few ornaments, but nothing major. Greg was able to net the Hallmark Barbie ornaments I wanted.

OK... I know... consumerism, commercialism, etc. etc. etc. Just one day a year I want to be Robo Shopper. Just one day. It's a hobby. I'm not saying it's a reasonable one or a good one, but I'm saying it could be a worse one.

And you don't think this happens without "stuff" do you?????



And, yes, not to worry - I bought a case of lights today as backups.

Christmas is for Puppies

Meet Drake.

Santa brought him to BC... a few days early. Drake has been the center of attention all day long. And no wonder. He's the cutest thing around.

He has chewed on paper and boxes and people...



But no one minds because he's just so cute... and efficient...

At only seven weeks old, Drake can already retrieve a duck, even though it's bigger than he is.



And that is why the men of the family are already in love with this pup. The women just think he's adorable.